


Holding On

by roosebolton



Category: Original Work
Genre: Caught, Desperation, Gen, Kink Discovery, Masturbation, Omorashi, Piss kink, Wetting, if you don't know what omorashi means you definitely want to look it up before clicking on this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25259278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roosebolton/pseuds/roosebolton
Summary: On a hot, sunny day in the construction yard, Brent desperately has to piss, and is forced to hold it for far too long.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	Holding On

It was a hot, sunny day in the construction yard, and even though it wasn't yet midday, Brent was already sweating. The shade of the sections of the house that had already been built didn't really make him feel any cooler, and he was downing bottles of water much faster than usual. He felt like he was sweating out more water than he was taking in, anyway, but the project was already behind schedule, so he had to keep going despite the heat.

Brent had learned over his past few years as a construction worker to keep working even when he was hungry, tired, or had to use the restroom. He could always do those things after his shift, he figured, and the relief he felt after a hard day's work was often magnified.

The sun was bright and blinding overhead, with no clouds in sight, when all that water caught up to him, and he begrudgingly acknowledged that he had to piss. Glancing at his watch, he saw his shift was well over halfway done.

_ Eh, I can hold it, _ he thought.  _ At least enough to finish the inside of this wall. _

After a while, though, every thud of the hammer seemed to go straight to Brent's bladder, and he finally gave in to the urge. The lone portable toilet was on the other side of the yard, though, so he set down his tools and headed over in that direction.

When he got there, it was occupied.

_ Of course. _

He knocked a couple times. "How long are you gonna be in there?"

"Ugh, a while. Sorry, man. Be out as soon as I can," said the voice from inside, one of his coworkers on the project.

Brent shrugged.  _ Guess I'll just have to keep holding it. There's no privacy anywhere else, since this yard is only surrounded by a chain link fence, which people keep walking past. And there's no real plumbing in the house yet. Whatever, it's fine. I'll just wait until I get home. _

He did his best to finish the section of the house he'd been hammering on, and put the tools he'd been using in his toolbox to move to a different area. Walking suddenly seemed a bad idea, each step reminding him just how much water he'd had to drink, and Brent reflexively clutched at his cock through his jeans, trying to make sure he didn't have a very different sort of accident than the kind he'd usually be worried about on the job.

With half an hour left in his shift, his bladder aching for release, he walked about halfway across the yard toward the portable toilet, but after squinting, he could see that it was occupied yet again, the lock on the door red rather than green.

He went back to work as best he could, his mind hardly able to concentrate on anything but his extremely urgent need to piss. When his shift time was finally up, he quickly waved at his coworkers with a "See you tomorrow!" before tossing his toolbox in the back of his truck and hopping inside. 

_ I just have to get home now, _ he thought.  _ Just long enough to get home. _

Brent gritted his teeth when he hit a pothole, one of his hands again rushing to his crotch to grip his cock, trying desperately not to piss himself. 

He was about three quarters of the way home when he saw the worst thing he could have imagined.

A train was approaching, the familiar bells dinging loudly as the black and white arms crossed just in front of him.

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck, _ he thought, and he waited even longer than he'd expected. A twinge in his bladder caused a tiny dribble of piss to leak out, and he rushed his hand once again to place a firm grip on his cock, leaving it there just in case.

Finally, the train passed, and he could keep going. 

He was sweating again, and this time it wasn't because of the heat. 

Despite his hand on his cock, he found himself leaking a little more each time his truck hit the slightest bump, and by the time he pulled into the garage, there was a visible wet spot on the front of his jeans. The closest bathroom was through the laundry room, but by the time he made it there, he was already much too late. It was happening.

Kicking off his work boots with difficulty, one hand still on his cock, he stumbled into the laundry room only to hear the shower going on full blast in the bathroom. Predictably, the door was locked. He groaned in frustration, another spurt of piss leaking out, despite his best efforts.

“Fuck it,” he said under his breath.  _ I’ve already pissed myself, anyway, there’s no point in trying to wait longer. I'm going to have to throw everything in the washer anyway. Might as well just let go. _

Leaning against the washing machine, Brent finally allowed himself to release the piss his bladder had been holding, and he was almost impressed at how loud it was, even inside his jeans. He sighed with great relief, the pressure on his bladder finally lessening, as the rivulets of warm piss saturated the inseams of his jeans, inch by inch, until he was standing in a puddle, both his dirty socks soaked, too. When the ache in his bladder subsided, he strained to push out a little more, just to be done with it, since he was already flooded with piss anyway. 

He unbuttoned his jeans, unzipping them, and his cock practically leaped out of his fly, hard and ready to… to what?

_ Maybe I liked that feeling a little  _ too _ much, _ he thought, stroking himself through his piss-soaked underwear.  _ Not sure how I feel about that, but since I’m already filthy… _

Pulling out his cock, Brent went back to leaning against the washing machine, jacking himself off, hunched over a little, standing in a rapidly cooling puddle of piss. It didn’t take him long to finish, shooting his load against the washer, his toes curling in squishy wet socks, his body still recovering from the hours of holding in his piss.

With a deep breath he stood upright, opening the washer, which was thankfully empty. Gingerly stepping to the side of the obvious puddle, he slowly began to peel off his wet jeans, his cock still out of his underwear.

What he  _ didn’t _ notice was that the shower noise had stopped.

Standing in the brightly lit laundry room, his white socks soaked in a puddle of pale yellow piss, his jeans halfway down, cum dripping down the side of the washer, he glanced over at his roommate standing silently in the bathroom doorway, a towel wrapped around his lower half.

“Uh…” Brent began, swallowing audibly, “... I can explain.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written anything like this before, so please go easy on me! <3


End file.
